The true thy chartered freemen are,
Of every age and clime.
One holy Church, one army strong,
One steadfast high intent,
One working band, one harvest-song,
One King Omnipotent.
How purely hath thy speech come down
From man’s primeval youth;
How grandly hath thine empire grown
Of Freedom, Love, and Truth!
How gleam thy watchfires through the night,
With never fainting ray;
How rise thy towers, serene and bright,
To meet the dawning day!
In vain the surge’s angry shock,
In vain the drifting sands;
Unharmed, upon the Eternal Rock,
The Eternal City stands.